


Angel

by sweet_charmie



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweet_charmie/pseuds/sweet_charmie
Summary: Armie Hammer grew up in the church but he rejects it. What happens when he meets the son of a visiting preacher?(smut oneshot)





	Angel

”Where're you draggin' me to?” Armie grumbled to his brother. 

”There's a new preacher in town,” Viktor said. ”I wanna go see him preach.” 

”Since when do you care about seeing a preacher?” Armie asked. ”Plenty of preachers pass through here all the time, why’s this one any different?”

Armie Hammer didn’t understand much of religion. His parents were members of the church and he had been baptized when he was born, but that was the last time he willingly stepped foot in a church in his eighteen years. Armie was a tall man, much taller than anyone at his school, with honey-blond hair and clear blue eyes, a nice white smile with pink lips, and flushed cheeks. His voice was already deep and rarely cracked anymore, and it had a slight southern accent. That was just a product of where his family lived in Texas. His father was a farmer, and Armie and Viktor had worked there all of their lives. 

Their town was small. Colby, Texas, a fertile oasis in a land of desert. Population: a thousand. Armie’s class at school had ten people in it. The town seemed to be stuck in the last century— cell service was hard to get that far out in the country, and everyone who lived there was part of some franchise that required always working. Nobody had time for the Internet or for movies and television shows. Everybody went to church— there was no question about it. On the Lord’s day, everybody stopped their work, put on their best clothes, and went to sit in their pick of whatever house of worship they chose. Armie’s family chose the Evangelical church, which was convenient because it was the only church with no air conditioning. Armie suffered in his buttoned shirts that his mother pressed for him, and he tried not to fall asleep. 

Every week, the church had a new preacher visit on Wednesday nights. Armie’s mother always urged her sons to go, thinking that since she was involved in the church, her sons should also be. Viktor was interested in it— he paid attention during services— but Armie didn’t care in the slightest. He didn't care, not because he didn’t believe in God— he knew something was out there— but because he didn't know why God would give him such an impediment that was so sinful. Armie had known for years that he was gay, and he hid it from his religious family for fear of being ridiculed and cast out. 

Viktor laughed at his older brother. ”I think you’ll enjoy it,” he said. 

Their car rolled up to the church after a few minutes of silence, and Armie watched as people young and old entered the church. ”What’s the name of this preacher?” Armie asked. 

”Chalamet,” Vik said. ”Marc, I think.” 

”What makes him different?” Armie asked again. 

Vik smiled. ”You’ll see,” he said. ”C’mon, it’s almost six-thirty, it’s gonna start.” 

The choir was singing as the brothers walked in and it seemed so lively, so unlike the usual church service. Everybody was smiling and greeting the person next to them. In the front, a lanky man wearing a nice suit stood at the pulpit, graciously conversing with two men sitting behind him. One man looked older, probably the preacher’s father, but the younger man caught Armie’s eye. 

He had perfect alabaster skin and a head full of silky dark curls. He had thick eyebrows sat atop precious droopy eyes, and Armie saw a glint of dark green in those eyes. His nose was piquant, and his mouth was a gorgeous pair of plump, pink lips and white teeth. He wore a red polo shirt and jeans— _jeans_ , in church— and dirty white tennis shoes with a gold necklace glimmering from his neck. Armie was convinced that this boy was an angel sent down from heaven; then he saw the similarities between the boy and the preacher: the same droopy eyes, the same nose. Father and son. 

Viktor noticed his brother staring. ”Don’t just sit there,” he mumbled and dug his elbow into Armie’s ribs. ”Go talk to him.” 

”Is this why you brought me?” Armie asked. ”To talk to the preacher’s son?” 

”Yeah,” Viktor said. ”Go talk to him.” 

Armie swallowed thickly, and he patted his brother’s back. ”Thanks, Vik,” he mumbled, then left him in the back of the church. He tried not to stare at the angel as he approached him, but the angel was smart and cunning because he turned his eyes to Armie. His joyful grin fell from his lips and turned into a friendlier smile, and he said something to his father before standing up from his chair and stepping off of the stage. 

He and Armie met halfway. ”Hi,” Armie said and immediately hated it. How lame. _Hi_. 

”Hey,” the boy said. His voice was different than anything Armie had heard, light and melodic with a northern accent. ”I’m Timothée.” 

”Armie,” he said. His mouth felt dry. He was talking to a handsome boy. And he was talking back; that was enough to render Armie speechless. ”Umm… You come here often?” 

”What?” Timothée chuckled. ”Church? Or Colby?” 

”Yes,” Armie said, then squeezed his eyes shut. ”No. Jesus— No, not that! Church. You come to church often?” 

Timothée laughed. ”Yes, I come to church often,” he said. ”My father is the preacher, after all.” 

”Right, right,” Armie chuckled. He was nervous. ”Umm… Armie.” 

”You said that already,” Timothée said, and he chuckled. 

”I sure did,” Armie mumbled. He was quiet for a moment, then asked, ”So, what’s your dad preaching on tonight?” 

Timothée giggled and rolled his eyes. ”Homosexuality,” he said. He leaned closer to Armie and whispered, ”It’s a bit bullshit, but…” He shrugged. 

”What is?” Armie asked. ”Being gay?” 

”No,” Timothée said. ”My dad’s views on it. See, he doesn’t like gay people— they’re abominations, God’s mistake, all that— but I came out to him and he loves me still. He said that God made me perfectly and that he should accept everything about me. So, he still hates gay people but I get a pass, I guess.” 

”You’re gay?” Armie asked breathlessly. His stomach was doing somersaults, and his heart was jumping out of his chest. This handsome boy was gay! 

”Yeah,” Timothée said. His eyes went wide, and he said, ”You’re not gonna hate me now, are you?” He had a glimmer in his hazel eyes; he was joking. 

”Never,” Armie said. ”I’m gay too.” 

”Nice,” Timothée smiled. ”That boy you came with, is that your boyfriend?” 

”No!” Armie exclaimed. ”No, no, no, that’s my brother Vik. He kinda dragged me here. Nope, I am very much single and alone.” 

Timothée smiled. ”Well, it’s a shame,” he said. ”I’m only in town for tonight, then I’m heading out early tomorrow morning. On to the next, right? There’s always more people to preach the Lord’s word to.” 

Armie's hand shot out and took Timothée’s. His hand was soft and warm and felt perfect in Armie’s grasp. ”What time does this end?” he asked. ”I’ll take you out to dinner, show you the sights…?” 

”You trailed off there,” Timothée said. ”Is there anything else in that plan?” 

”Maybe,” Armie smiled. ”If you want to.” 

”I might,” Timothée said with a small smile. ”Come find me after the service.” 

”I’ll do that,” Armie said. Before he let go of Timothée’s hand, though, he raised it to his lips and kissed his fingers. He watched Timothée’s cheeks turn pink, and the boy gave him an abashed smile. He turned away and his hand fell from Armie’s. 

Armie wandered to the back of the rows of pews where Vik sat and he carefully sat down. ”What d’ya think?” Vik asked. 

”That’s him,” Armie breathed. ”My angel.” 

Timothée’s father was a perfect preacher. He spoke with dignity, his voice rising and falling in the appropriate places, begging people to find the Lord and renounce their sins. The congregation yelled out ”Amen!”. Armie stared at Timothée. 

Timothée was watching his father as he preached, making broad gestures to the heavens, and then his cunning eyes fell on Armie. He smiled, and he began to make gestures with his hand in his lap. A peace sign, one finger, a fist— Armie was confused. 

Vik elbowed him for the second time that night. ”Two-one-zero,” he whispered. 

”What?” Armie hissed. 

”It’s his phone number, idiot,” Vik mumbled. 

Armie watched with rapt attention as Timothée continued to flash numbers at him, and, when his hand fell still, Armie had a phone number in his head. He snuck his phone out and entered the number, and he sent a quick text: _hi_. 

He watched Timothée shove his hand in his jeans pocket, and he withdrew his phone. _texting in church?_ He sent. _naughty naughty_. 

_is it a sin to talk to somebody?_ Armie responded. 

_while that somebody’s father is preaching about how gay people are bad, yes,_ Timothée replied. 

_i don’t mind it if you don’t,_ Armie said. 

Timothée looked up from his phone and smiled at Armie. Not a smile. It was more of a smirk. He lowered his eyes again and sent one more text. 

_if you give me a good time tonight, i don't mind,_ Timothée said. Then, he pocketed his phone again. Armie glanced up at him incredulously, not believing what he had just read, and Timothée flicked his eyebrows up. That was an obvious declaration: your move. 

His move, indeed. 

The sermon ended with a prayer, and Armie peeked his eyes open to look at Timothée. His eyes were shut, his head bowed, his hands clasped together. He was praying along with everybody else. Finally, Timothée’s father ended the prayer, and the choir began to sing again. Timothée stood up and took his father’s hand, and Armie watched his lips move. 

”Papa,” Timothée began. ”There’s a boy here and he wants to show me around town. Can I go?” 

Mr. Chalamet examined his son: rosy cheeks and excitement in his eyes. ”Let me speak to him,” he said. 

”Papa—” 

”You’re sixteen,” Mr. Chalamet said firmly. ”You’re young enough for men to smell it on you, to smell your innocence. They’ll come crawling to you with lustful thoughts, and they’ll want you to partake in that. You must never be like that with any man. The love, I agree with; the… Fornication, I do not. Let me speak to this boy and I’ll decide if he’ll corrupt you.” 

Timothée huffed. ”He doesn't have lustful thoughts,” he grumbled. ”Armie’s a nice guy and he just wants to show me around.” 

”Is this the same man who kissed your hand?” Mr. Chalamet asked, and Timothée nodded. ”No. You cannot go with him. He’s touched you, and he’ll want to touch more, he’ll want to take more, he’ll take you and your innocence. You promised yourself to God, Timothée, and to your future wife. I am not letting some country boy take you away from your promise to God.” 

”He’s not gonna take me away from God,” Timothée sighed. ”He’s just being friendly. I’ll tell him I can’t go.” 

Mr. Chalamet smiled. ”Good,” he said. He patted his son’s shoulder and turned to greet other people, and Timothée slipped off of the stage. He walked to Armie and took his hand lightly. 

”Where’re you taking me?” Timothée asked. 

”To a little place in town,” Armie said smoothly. ”Private, so we can be alone.” 

”Sounds perfect,” Timothée said. ”Are we walking? Does your brother need to get home?” 

”He has his license,” Armie said. ”We drove here. He can drive himself back home and we can walk. I’ve got it figured out, angel.” 

Timothée flushed. ”Angel?” he mumbled. 

”Is that okay?” Armie asked. ”I mean… I can call you something else.” 

”No, no,” Timothée said. ”I like it.” 

Armie informed Vik of the plan, and Vik slipped his hand discretely into Armie’s back pocket. Armie didn’t care about what Vik had slipped him and he assumed that it was probably a house key or something, and he began to walk out of the church with Timothée. 

Then, Mr. Chalamet approached the couple. ”Timothée, who is this?” he demanded. 

Timothée dropped Armie’s hand. ”It’s Armie,” he said. ”He’s taking me to dinner.” 

”What did I just tell you?” his father asked. ”You’re coming with me, young man.” 

”Papa!” Timothée grunted. ”Please, I’m old enough to hang out with people! Armie’s a nice guy, aren’t you?” He looked to Armie with a desperate look in his eyes. 

”I am, sir,” Armie said. 

”What’s your job?” Mr. Chalamet asked. 

”I work on my parents’ farm, sir,” Armie said. 

”And your school?” 

”I graduated two weeks ago,” Armie replied. ”I’m going to San Antonio for college.” 

”To do what?” 

”Papa,” Timothée hissed. ”Stop. It’s getting to be late, we gotta go.” 

”Have you made a promise to God?” Mr. Chalamet asked. 

Armie panicked. ”Yes, sir,” he said. ”I’m gonna stay a virgin until I get married. That’s a sacred thing and it only belongs to my wife. Or husband.” 

Mr. Chalamet didn’t seem to like that answer, but Timothée wasted no time in grabbing Armie’s hand again and skirting around his father. They safely made it out of the church, and their shoes crunched against the gravel of the parking lot. Their hands stayed intertwined. 

”So,” Timothée began. ”Was that a lie?” 

”Was what a lie?” Armie asked. 

”Your promise to God,” Timothée said. ”You hesitated before you answered him.” 

Armie chuckled. ”I did do that a couple of years ago,” he began. ”But I haven’t really kept it. I mean, God wants us to be happy, and if having sex makes me happy, I don’t see the problem.” 

”That’s not what the promise is, though,” Timothée said. ”God doesn’t care how much you have sex. It’s the feelings attached to having sex. He doesn’t want you hurting other people with false feelings of adoration. He says that those feelings should be reserved for your spouse.” 

Armie shrugged. ”One way or another, I haven’t kept it.” 

”You’re not too big into the whole religion thing, are you?” Timothée asked. 

”What gave it away?” Armie smiled. 

”Can I ask why?” Timothée inquired. 

Armie sighed. ”I do believe that something is out there,” he said. ”I believe in the existence of God, but I just don’t worship Him. So many bad things happen in this world and it seems like God is making us suffer, and that’s just cruel. If God loves us, why would He make us suffer?” 

Timothée was quiet. ”That’s a very good argument,” he said finally. ”Sadly, I don’t know enough about God to dispute it. You’d have to ask my father about that one.” 

”So that means I’m never getting an answer,” Armie smiled down at the ground. By now, they were on the sidewalk and heading downtown, the streetlights casting a golden glow on the two of them. 

Armie shoved his free hand in his back pocket, and his fingers brushed a bit of plastic. He grasped it and pulled it out, and he began to panic again. A condom. Vik had slipped him a condom. 

”What’s that?” Timothée asked. 

Armie hurriedly pushed the condom packet back into his pocket. ”Just something my brother gave me,” he said. ”Not a big deal.” 

”Well, now you’ve got me curious,” Timothée giggled. He slipped his hand into Armie’s back pocket, and he mumbled, ”Nothing in there. What about this one?” He put his hand into Armie’s other pocket and pulled out the condom, and he began to laugh. ”A condom. Your brother gave you a condom?” 

”He’s funny like that,” Armie groused. 

Timothée let out an ”Hmm” and he put the condom back into Armie’s pocket. Then, his delicate hand wrapped around to Armie’s front and pushed its way into his front pocket. His fingers stroked his thigh through his pants, and a small pout came over his lips. ”Nothing here,” he whispered. ”The other one, maybe?” 

Armie was in a panic once again. What would happen if Timothée touched his cock? Would he get offended at his hardness? Would he enjoy it? He didn't have time to ponder it, because Timothée’s hand slipped into his right pocket, and his fingers brushed Armie’s hard cock. ”Oh,” he said. ”How long have you been hard?” 

”Just a couple of minutes,” Armie mumbled in a choked voice. He wanted Timothée to touch him without his pants in the way. He wanted so desperately to be in-between Timothée’s legs and see that pert little ass in its natural state. He wanted to use that condom on Timothée so badly. 

”Is there somewhere private we can go?” Timothée asked. ”Your house or something?” 

Armie thought for a long moment, and he said, ”There’s a place out near the river with a big willow tree. The leaves hang down so low that it’s hidden.” 

”Lead the way, sir,” Timothée giggled. 

”Don’t call me that,” Armie choked out. ”Take your hand out of my pocket. In case someone sees us.” 

Timothée withdrew his hand, and Armie let go of his other hand in favor of wrapping his arm around Timothée’s waist. They walked and talked all the way across downtown and down a grassy knoll to the riverside. Timothée was immediately filled with a childlike glee, and he kicked off his shoes and began to unbuckle his belt. ”What’re you doing?” Armie asked. 

”Going for a swim,” Timothée said as if he were stating the obvious. He pulled down his pants and pulled his shirt over his head, and Armie marveled at the freckles and the little nipples and his ass in those white briefs. Timothée noticed Armie staring, because he asked, ”Do you wanna take them off, or should I?” 

”I’ll do it,” Armie said quickly. ”Wait, shit, hold on—” He began to undress as well, having no regard for his nice church clothes. Soon, he was in his own gray boxers, and Timothée giggled. ”C’mere, angel,” he said and tugged Timothée close to him. His hands smoothed up Timothée’s body, from his legs to his ass to his hips, up his sides and chest and neck, and all the way to his face. ”You are so gorgeous,” Armie whispered. ”Fuck. Can I kiss you?” 

”Yes, please,” Timothée whispered. He rose up on his toes to better reach Armie’s lips, and Armie claimed his lips in a soft kiss. Timothée tasted of peppermint chapstick, and the two were pressed against each other, just gently kissing, for a long time. Their mouths broke apart and came back together countless times, each time with a soft, wet sound. Armie wrapped Timothée in a tight embrace and pulled him even closer, and Timothée clutched Armie’s biceps and let out a breathy moan. ”Armie,” he breathed. They kissed again, this time with more vigor, and Armie felt himself growing even harder. Timothée felt him against his leg, and he smiled into the kiss. ”Let’s find that willow tree,” he whispered. 

They gathered their clothes and began to walk. They could see the willow tree in the distance, and they meandered their way to it. Armie was trying to hurry, trying to get Timothée to the solitude of the tree in as little time as possible, and they finally got to it. Timothée pushed the leaves aside and laughed at the quiet darkness. ”I can’t see you,” he said. 

Armie retrieved his phone from the pocket of his pants, and he turned on the flashlight. ”Now you can,” he said. 

Timothée fell to the grass and he pulled Armie down with him, and Armie’s heart went wild when Timothée opened his legs for him. ”Don’t make me wait,” he whispered. He was looking up at Armie with earnest eyes, and Armie glanced over Timothée's skinny body. 

”You’re perfect,” Armie whispered. ”Don’t let anybody tell you any differently.” 

Timothée pulled Armie back down to him and he kissed him again. This kiss was more passionate, open mouths and biting lips. Armie licked up into Timothée’s mouth, and Timothée wrapped his legs around Armie’s waist. Armie knew how to have sex but it seemed like Timothée didn’t, and Armie rolled his hips down, grinding his hardness down onto Timothée. 

”Oh, fuck,” Timothée whispered into the kiss. 

”Angels aren’t supposed to cuss, darling,” Armie whispered. He trailed his kisses down to Timothée’s neck, and he saw the younger’s lips parted open, plump and a brilliant red. He already looked fucked, and they hadn’t even done anything yet. 

Timothée panted and moaned as Armie sucked and bit his neck, their hips moving together the whole time. Timothée’s hands fell onto Armie’s back, and he dragged his fingers down to the waistband of his boxers. ”Take them off,” Timothée whispered. ”Please?” 

”Of course,” Armie whispered and he was quick to pull down his boxers. It was a bit of a struggle to get them completely off, and Timothée giggled at his efforts. ”Don’t laugh at me,” Armie whispered quickly. 

Timothée glanced down at Armie’s body, the firm muscles and taut stomach, and his hard cock. Timothée looked back up at Armie’s eyes, then down again. ”I’ve never seen that before,” he whispered. ”I mean, I have a penis, but I've never seen anyone else’s.” 

”Does it look good?” Armie asked. 

”It looks big,” Timothée said shakily. He meekly raised his eyes to Armie and said, ”I’ve never had sex. I don’t even know how that works— sheltered, ya know. Can you explain it to me?” 

”Sure,” Armie said. ”So, it’s human instinct to try to breed with a partner that we find attractive, right? Well, that’s basically what sex is. I’ll put my cock inside of you and I’ll thrust my hips a bit. Then, when your body is ready, you’ll have an orgasm. Semen will come out of your cock. Usually, the bottom— you— finishes before the top— me— but that’s just a courtesy thing, to make sure the person you’re pleasing gets the gratification first. Some people don’t believe in that, but I do. Umm… Kinks and fetishes are hard to explain, it’s, like, something you like to do that makes sex more enjoyable. Like, uh, I like hair pulling and orgasm denial— making you wait to come, basically— and I have a praise kink, where I just love telling my partner how good and beautiful they are. It makes me feel good like I’m helping them. Some people like things like being tied up or being choked or, like, being humiliated. But I won’t make you do any of that. There are different positions too. Right now, with you on the ground and me above you, that called missionary. There’s one where you’re sitting on my hips, or where you’re on all-fours and I’m behind you. All sorts of different positions. We’ll stick with this one if that’s alright with you.” 

”Okay,” Timothée said slowly. ”So, where does it go?” 

”Excuse me?” 

”Ya know,” Timothée mumbled. ”A penis goes into a vagina, but where does it go on people who don't have vaginas?” 

Armie laughed. ”Well, sweetheart,” he whispered. ”It goes in your little hole. It’s really the only place it can go.” His fingers trailed down Timothée’s body to in-between his legs, and he let his fingers nudge Timothée’s hole. Unsurprisingly, Timothée gasped and his hole tightened. 

”Really?” he asked. ”In _there_?” 

”Yeah,” Armie nodded. ”We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

Timothée looked back down Armie’s body. ”Will it fit?” he whispered. ”How will it go in?” 

”It’ll fit,” Armie nodded. ”And it’ll go in by me slicking you up with spit— it’s not ideal but we don’t have lube here. Usually, I’d have you put my fingers in your mouth and then I’d put them in and stretch you out.” 

”Can I do it?” Timothée asked. ”Like, use my own fingers? I’m just nervous about… You doing it. I trust myself. Not that I don’t trust you, but—” 

”I understand, angel,” Armie said gently. He took Timothée’s hand and pulled out his index and middle fingers, and he admired the long, slender fingers. ”Put them in your mouth and suck on them. Lick them, get ’em all nice and wet.” 

Timothée hesitantly put his fingers into his mouth, and Armie held his hand as he sucked and licked on them. Finally, Armie deemed them slick enough, and he guided Timothée’s hand. ”I’ll warn you,” Armie whispered. ”It hurts at first. And it kinda feels like… Honestly, like you’re taking a shit. But there’s a special spot inside of every man that makes it all worth it.” 

He bent down Timothée’s index finger and pressed the pad of his middle finger against his hole. ”Just go slow,” Armie whispered. ”If it hurts, don’t be afraid to whine or cry. Well, if you cry, we’re not doing it, but don’t be afraid to make sounds of pain.” Then, he guided Timothée’s finger into himself. 

Immediately, Timothée gasped. ”Oh my God,” he whispered. ”This feels weird.” 

”I know, angel,” Armie whispered. He was enthralled that he had gotten Timothée to use the Lord’s name, and he softly kissed Timothée’s bottom lip. ”You’ll be okay. Think you can take more?” 

Timothée’s eyebrows crinkled together. ”Yeah,” he breathed. Armie continued to hold Timothée’s delicate hand, and Timothée gasped as he pushed his finger in. Armie watched greedily as his finger went all the way up to the knuckle, and he leaned over Timothée and kissed his cheek. 

”Good, good,” Armie whispered. ”You’re doing so good, angel. My perfect little angel, you’re doing so well. Start moving your finger. Bend it a little up towards your belly button.” 

Armie watched his hand flex, and Timothée’s mouth fell open. ”Fuck,” he whispered. ”Why does that feel so good?” 

”That’s your prostate,” Armie said. ”It’s this little bundle of nerves that’s easily stimulated. All it takes is a little touch…” He ran his fingers down Timothée’s hand and pressed on his knuckle, and Timothée moaned as he hit that spot again with his fingertip. ”And you feel good.” 

Timothée swallowed thickly. ”I want more,” he whispered. ”More, please.” 

”Now for your index finger,” Armie mumbled. He helped Timothée push in the specified finger, and he smiled as the ring of muscle stretched around his fingers. He wanted to taste that delicious ass, to slick him up with his tongue. _Maybe later_ , he told himself. Maybe that would be a reward for Timothée. 

Armie helped him pump his fingers in and out, and he saw Timothée’s cheeks turning red. ”So pretty,” Armie whispered. ”How gorgeous, sweetheart. You look so good with your fingers up your ass like that. You look good enough to eat. Want me to do that? Want me to eat you out?” 

”What’s that?” Timothée asked. 

”It’s where I kiss and lick your perfect little hole,” Armie said. ”It feels good.” 

”Okay,” Timothée agreed. ”Now?” 

”If you want that now,” Armie said. 

”Yeah,” Timothée nodded. ”Yeah, now.” 

”Alright,” Armie said softly. He slowly pulled out the younger’s fingers and used his strength to turn Timothée over onto his stomach. He pulled his hips into the air and spread his cheeks wide open, and he admired that gorgeous little pucker. Armie hummed softly and buried his face in Timothée’s ass. He heard Timothée gasp, and he sent one long lick onto his hole. Timothée shuddered, and he whispered, ”Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

”Such naughty words,” Armie whispered. He kissed his hole and licked over it again, and he kneaded the lily white flesh of Timothée’s plump cheeks. 

Armie did everything he could to hear those moans. He took note of the specific things he did that made the loudest moans, and he continued over and over until Timothée was almost sobbing with pleasure. Armie had reached forward and took Timothée’s hand, and Timothée was gripping his hand tightly. ”Armie,” he groaned. ”Please?”

”Please what, angel?” Armie asked. He kissed that pucker, and Timothée shuddered again. 

”Fuck me,” Timothée whispered. 

Armie nodded. ”I’ll do that, baby,” he said softly. ”I’ll use the condom.” 

”Do you have…” Timothée began. ”Any, like… STDs or anything?” 

Armie chuckled. ”Do you not want the condom?” he asked. 

”No,” Timothée squeaked. ”I wanna feel you.” 

Armie was conflicted. He wanted to fuck Timothée raw and make sure he couldn’t walk, but he also wanted to be slow and gentle with him. Slow and gentle required a condom. ”If you want me to go faster, I’ll do that,” Armie whispered. ”But if you want to go slow, the condom goes on.” 

”Fast,” Timothée panted. ”Hurt me.” 

”Not for your first time,” Armie said. ”Your first time will be nice. Not anything too kinky. You have time for that.” 

Armie helped him turn onto his back again, and Timothée tangled his fingers in the ruffled honey hair. ”You’re really handsome,” Timothée whispered. 

”Thanks,” Armie laughed. ”Okay, so… I need you to be quiet for a minute.” 

”Why?” Timothée asked softly. 

”Because my hands are shaking and I need to concentrate on getting inside of you,” Armie admitted. ”So, just be quiet for a few seconds.” 

Timothée nodded, and he watched Armie grasp his cock and stroke it gently to get fully hard. Timothée studied his body, his pale hips and golden stomach, his red cock, and Timothée couldn’t keep his eyes off of his testicles. He had never anticipated testicles being sexy, but at that moment, they were. Everything about Armie was so unbelievably arousing, even the little country twang that came from his voice every so often. Timothée watched Armie line up his cock, and he let his head fall back as he pushed the tip in. He gasped, and his hands pushed on Armie’s chest. He didn’t know when he was allowed to speak again, so he was silent in his pleasure. 

Armie grunted softly as he sheathed himself fully inside Timothée, and he noticed the little tears blooming at the corners of Timothée’s eyes. ”Hey, what’s wrong?” he whispered. 

”Hurts,” Timothée whispered. 

”It’s okay, angel,” Armie whispered. ”It won’t hurt after a while. It’ll feel good, I promise.” 

Timothée took in a struggling breath, and he accidentally let out a sob. ”I’m sorry,” he said quickly. ”I’m so sorry, please don’t stop.” 

”Calm down,” Armie whispered and caressed Timothée’s cheek. ”It’s okay, angel. I’m not mad. I’m just making sure you’re not hurting too badly.” 

”How much is left?” Timothée asked softly. 

”It’s all in,” Armie whispered. ”I know it hurts, angel, but it’ll feel good, I promise.” 

He drew his hips back and carefully pushed back in, and Timothée coiled his legs around Armie’s broad hips. His heel dug into Armie’s back, but Armie enjoyed the slight pain. He had to remember that Timothée was a virgin and barely knew what kinks were, so he pushed it aside and continued to slowly make love to Timothée. 

Timothée was embarrassed to admit that he had no idea what to do with his hands. He rested them on Armie’s shoulders, then decided that he didn’t like that, and moved them down so his fingers were splayed across his chest. Timothée looked over to where Armie’s hands were in the dirt, and he reached over and took a hold on Armie’s wrist. ”Hold my hand?” he whispered. Armie pulled his face from Timothée’s neck and locked eyes with him, and his hand smoothed into Timothée’s. Their fingers laced together tightly, and Armie leaned back down and kissed Timothée softly. 

Armie couldn’t care less about his own pleasure. He wanted to make Timothée feel good, he wanted everything to be about this beautiful boy and his pleasure. Timothée felt amazing to Armie, his ass tight around Armie’s cock, and the smell of Timothée surrounding him made him forget himself, and he grabbed Timothée’s hips and rammed into him quickly. 

Timothée let out a little yelp, and Armie instantly felt terrible. ”Sorry,” he whispered. ”I’m sorry, I just—” 

”Do it again,” Timothée whispered. ”I want that.” 

”No, angel,” Armie said quickly. ”No, no, I don’t want to show you that side of me. Maybe…” He wanted to say ’one day’, but he remembered that Timothée lived in New York and it was unlikely that they would ever see each other again. Armie saw this as an opportunity to go as rough as he wanted, but he didn’t want Timothée’s memories of him to be rough and dominating. He didn’t want the memories of him losing his virginity to be like that. 

”Maybe what?” Timothée asked. 

Armie sighed. He leaned down and kissed Timothée to keep him quiet, and Timothée’s free hand came up and held Armie’s cheek. The kiss was soft, no tongue, no open mouths, just lips pressed together. 

Their lips broke with a soft smack, and Timothée whispered, ”Maybe one day?” 

Armie nodded. ”I wanna see you again after this,” he whispered. ”But… You’ll go back up to New York and I’ll stay here… I won’t ever see you again.” 

Timothée’s heart hurt. He definitely wanted to see Armie after this, and it hurt him to know that he would never speak to Armie again. ”Don’t think about that now,” he whispered. He smoothed his thumb down Armie’s cheek, and he said, ”Just enjoy this now.” 

Armie nodded and kissed Timothée again. This was new for him, going slow and kissing and holding hands. Armie used his other hand to take Timothée’s hand that was on his face, and he spread out Timothée’s arms and held both of his hands. Timothée moved his hand carefully out of Armie’s and grasped at the grass, letting out small moans as Armie slowly fucked him. 

”Armie,” Timothée whispered. ”Armie, oh God.” 

”Timmy,” Armie whispered into his neck. ”Are you close, angel?” 

”I think so,” Timothée mumbled. Armie lifted himself up slightly to look all over Timothée, at his flushed chest and cheeks and his blown-out, glassy eyes. He looked so fucked and gorgeous, it would instantly be obvious to anybody what they had done. _Let them see_ , Armie thought. 

”I’m gonna touch your cock, okay?” Armie whispered. ”It’ll feel good.” He removed his hand from Timothée’s and reached down in-between their bodies, and he grasped the younger’s cock. He stroked Timothée at the same time as his thrusts, and Timothée let out wrecked moans. His voice would be gone the next day. He wouldn’t be able to sit down or walk normally. God, they were so fucked.

Timothée tried to bury his face in Armie’s neck to hide the pretty sounds he was making, but Armie took a handful of his hair and pulled his head back. He hadn’t meant for his dominant side to take over, but it had. He didn’t feel bad about it, though. ”Don’t hide those sounds from me,” Armie whispered. ”Does it feel good?” 

Timothée nodded. 

”Say my name,” Armie requested. 

”A-Armie,” Timothée stammered. ”God, Armie.” 

Armie kissed Timothée, biting his bottom lip. ”You’re so perfect,” he whispered and let go of his lip in favor of licking Timothée’s bottom lip. Timothée pressed his chin forward to fully connect their lips, and everything culminated with a small breath and Armie felt his hand being covered by Timothée’s cum. Timothée’s eyes squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed together, and he breathed heavily as he felt that high that they had been chasing. ”There you go, angel,” Armie whispered. ”So good for me. Does that feel good?” Timothée nodded, and his fingers clawed at Armie’s back. 

It didn’t take long for Armie to come, especially after seeing Timothée’s face at the peak of it. He pulled out before he came so that Timothée wouldn't have to go through that odd feeling of having cum in him, and he came on their stomachs. He let out a low moan, his eyes fixed on Timothée. He was still in-between Timothée’s legs and he saw those lips, bruised from the intensity of their kisses they had shared. He couldn’t control himself from pulling Timothée up to him and kissing him again. His arms were tight around the younger, his back arched clear off of the ground, and Armie broke the kiss. ”You’re perfect,” Armie whispered. He climbed off of Timothée and laid down next to him, and he caught his breath as Timothée took his hand. 

”You…” Timothée began. ”You were really good.”

Armie chuckled. He was sweaty and tired and covered in cum, and he looked over and saw that Timothée was in the same state. ”Thanks,” Armie said. ”You were good too.” 

After a few long moments, Armie sat up and brushed the grass off of his legs. He stood up and offered his hand to Timothée, and he hauled the younger up to his feet. Timothée stumbled slightly, and Armie caught him. ”It’s gonna be hard to walk,” Armie told him. ”And to sit down. I’m sorry, I should have told you beforehand.” 

”It’s okay,” Timothée said. His voice was hoarse and his eyes were still blown-out. ”Can we go to the river to clean off?” 

”Of course,” Armie said and kissed Timothée’s cheek. ”Want me to carry you?” 

”Can you lift me?” Timothée asked meekly. ”I’m kinda big.” 

”No, you’re not,” Armie said. ”God made you the way He wanted you to be. You’re very lean, Timmy, and I think He did that so I could carry you.” 

Timothée laughed as Armie swept him up into his arms, and he moved out of the tree branches. He carried Timothée down to the river and helped him stand up as he washed off Timothée’s stomach and his hole. The water was cool against their hot skin, and Timothée reached down and splashed water up onto his chest. Armie kissed the back of his head, his curls embedded with grass and sweat, and he began to pick the blades of grass out of the soft curls. Timothée helped clean off Armie’s stomach, and he whispered, ”Arms?” 

”Yeah?” Armie replied. 

”Can I…” Timothée began. ”Can I touch your…” He swallowed heavily and a new flush came to his face. ”Your balls? I’ve never seen them before on anyone and… I just wanna touch them.” 

Armie smiled. ”Do you think my ballsack is sexy?” he asked. 

Timothée shrugged. ”I just wanna touch it,” he said. ”You touched pretty much every part of me, and I want to touch every part of you.” 

”Sure,” Armie said. 

Timothée’s hand skated down from Armie’s stomach to his hips and further down, and his hand was soon full of Armie’s most private part. He had never had anybody touch him there before on purpose, and he wrinkled his nose. It wasn’t a bad feeling, but it wasn’t necessarily a turn on. Timothée’s hand was soft and warm against him, and his heart jumped when Timothée leaned down and softly kissed the skin. He knew that Timothée wouldn’t blow him, but a man could dream. Maybe next time. 

Armie helped Timothée get dressed, and, once they both had their clothes back on, Timothée suddenly became shy and wrapped his arms around himself. ”What’s the matter, angel?” Armie asked. 

Timothée turned and buried his face in Armie’s broad chest. ”I don’t wanna go,” he whispered. ”I wanna stay here with you.” 

”I know, babe,” Armie mumbled. He wrapped his arms tightly around Timothée and hugged him close, and Timothée’s arms went around him. ”I have your phone number. I can call you every night and talk to you about anything. I can teach you how to masturbate, so it’s like I’m there with you.” 

”What’s that?” Timothée asked. 

”Masturbating?” Armie clarified and Timothée nodded. ”It’s self-gratification. Doing it by yourself or with a toy or something.” 

”Okay,” Timothée agreed. ”Every night. You better call me every night.” 

”I will,” Armie promised. ”Let’s get you back to the church.” 

They continued to talk the whole walk back, and Timothée was smiling widely when they approached the white wooden building. He saw his father standing by their car, and he took Armie’s hand. ”Kiss goodbye?” he requested. 

”Your dad is right there,” Armie whispered. 

”I know,” Timothée said. He lifted his hands up and pressed his palms to Armie’s face. ”Please?” 

Armie wrapped his arms around Timothée’s waist and lifted him up to match his height, and he softly kissed Timothée. Their lips were pressed together for a long moment before Timothée began to giggle, and he snorted and laughed as Armie kept trying to kiss him. Armie’s hand went up and grabbed a handful of Timothée’s curls, and he whispered, ”I’ll see you. Be good for me, won’t you?” 

Timothée kissed Armie again. ”Does that mean not sleeping with anybody else?” he asked. ”Can I date other people?” 

” _Other_ people?” Armie asked. 

Timothée nodded. He kissed Armie again, and he asked, ”So?” 

”Nobody else, for either of us,” Armie said. ”Next time we meet, I’ll make slow love to you over and over again until you can’t do anything else. You’re perfect, angel.” 

Timothée kissed Armie one more time for longer, and their lips broke softly. Armie lowered Timothée back to the ground, and he took Timothée’s hand and noticed the small silver ring on his finger. ”You really broke that promise, huh?” Armie chuckled. 

Timothée laughed. ”What’s your last name?” he asked. 

”Hammer.”

Timothée smiled and let go of Armie’s hand. ”See ya around, Armie Hammer!” he called as he ran off to his father.

**Author's Note:**

> there may be a second part to this if i feel like writing it <3


End file.
